


[C] A Day in the Lake

by OneofWebs



Series: Jaskier's a Merman or Maybe a Siren [3]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Alternate Universe - Merpeople, Bottom Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Bottom Jaskier | Dandelion, Dom/sub Undertones, Explicit Sexual Content, Fingerfucking, Geralt has a Tail, Jaskier is a Merman, M/M, Magic, Marathon Sex, Merpeople, Oral Sex, Potions, Sub Jaskier | Dandelion, Switching, Top Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Top Jaskier | Dandelion, fish anatomy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-11
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:22:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26407927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneofWebs/pseuds/OneofWebs
Summary: Jaskier likes his new home in a special-made lake at Corvo Bianco, but sometimes he's still lonely. Geralt takes it upon himself to cure Jaskier's loneliness, if only for a day. If that means they spend all day having sex in the lake, then that's what Geralt's going to do.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Jaskier's a Merman or Maybe a Siren [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1821676
Comments: 7
Kudos: 160
Collections: Good Relationship Etiquette (familial included) - or Good BDSM Etiquette - or Good Relationship and BDSM Etiquette





	[C] A Day in the Lake

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dozen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dozen/gifts).



> AHHHHH This should have been posted like. WEEKS ago but Tumblr is literally the worst and things got messed up and i'm SORRY. Anyway.
> 
> Here it is. The sequel literally some people did ask for to that Jaskier's a mermaid thing. This CAN be read as a standalone but I would not suggest it. Some of the details might be a little Lost if you haven't read the two previous parts. Tagging this mermaid stuff is also hard because "anal sex" doesn't really apply here.

Jaskier had everything that he could ever want. The lake at Corvo Bianco belonged to him, and he filled with all manner of clothes and baubles. There was a dry alcove propped inside of a large rock that he could hide in when he wished to play the instruments that Geralt got for him. There were instruments in the manor, too, so Jaskier could play on the shore without getting these ones wet and waterlogged. When he sat along the shore to play, Jaskier was never without an audience.

Geralt brought in a tutor to teach him how to play better. Nothing short of an excellent student, Jaskier proved talented quickly. The tales of a lute-playing merperson had spread quickly in Toussaint, and Jaskier had his audience. It was a well-deserved audience, and so long as nobody tried to touch or otherwise maim, Geralt was happy to let it continue. Jaskier was happy to perform, too, and always at the end—he dove back into the lake where the problems were just as multitudinous as the solutions.

Jaskier had everything he could ever want, except the one thing he craved more than anything—company. He’d lived alone in the sea. There, it hadn’t bothered him as much as it did here. Here, he knew what company felt like. His audience provided company. _Geralt_ provided company, even, though it was much intimate than that of a stranger’s. No matter what it was, Jaskier craved it, and he didn’t _have_ any of that beneath the surface of the water. Just an expanse of darkness he called home.

Geralt visited often, and when he did, Jaskier tried to look happy. But it was on this particular day when Geralt came to sit at the side of the lake, in nothing but a shirt and a pair of rolled out trousers, that Jaskier found his resolve was gone. The sky was gray when he breached the surface of the water. He’d seen Geralt dip his feet in, come to greet him, and been met with a visage just as dreary as the one below. The moment he popped out of the water, Geralt knew something was wrong.

“Jaskier?” He didn’t even have to say more. Jaskier came across the water and plopped his entire wet body in Geralt’s lap, ignoring the very obvious grunt of displeasure he received. Geralt could get over it.

“I’m so lonely, Geralt!” Jaskier cried, wrapping his arms tight around Geralt’s waist. He’d managed to work himself between Geralt’s knees. Thanks to the splashing and the fact that Jaskier’s body was wet by design, Geralt was soaked now. None too happy about it as he might have been, Geralt just ran his fingers back through Jaskier’s hair.

“Can’t exactly live in the water with you. Unless you grow legs, you can’t come with me, either.”

Jaskier whined. “It’s not _fair_! Even just a day, I’d be happy. That stupid potion won’t let you stay down here for that long, would it?”

Geralt shook his head.

Jaskier just whined again, planting his face in Geralt’s lap.

“I came to tell you I was leaving for a bit.” Geralt spoke as if Jaskier had suddenly turned to porcelain, and anything too loud would shatter him. Jaskier could tell he was being careful, and any other day, he might have been angry about it. He wasn’t a glass doll. _But_ he was upset. He was lonely.

“Really, Geralt? Now, of all times?” Jaskier squeezed his webbed fingers into Geralt’s sides. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

Geralt shook his head. “Shouldn’t be gone long. About a week.”

Jaskier slunk down out of Geralt’s lap and back down into the water. “Have a safe journey,” he muttered. Before he could hear whatever else Geralt had to say—if anything at all—or suffer the humiliation of Geralt seeing him cry, he dove back. At least, beneath the surface of the water, tears were whisked away.

—

A week in some odd days later, Jaskier awoke in a startle. There was a great splash at the surface of the lake, one loud enough that Jaskier was _sure_ something had just fallen from the sky. Into his lake. It may have been a lonely place, but it was _his_ lake. Nothing came in here without his approval or begging, whichever happened first. Jaskier pushed himself away from his bed of plants and swam from the entrance of his underwater cave. He could still feel the ripples in the water against his skin, and he followed them.

Of all the things Jaskier expected, namely a rock or a spontaneously dead bird, this wasn’t even on the list. The only thing Jaskier registered, at first, was _Geralt_. Sinking. After that, the rush of Jaskier’s thoughts was too much for even him to count. All he knew was that he was darting through the water at top speed, rushing to where Geralt appeared to be _sinking_. What had happened? Was there an attack? Was Geralt hurt? Jaskier rushed to him, grabbing Geralt around the chest to support him.

That was when things just got stranger. Geralt was entirely fine. No wounds, save the lines on his neck that were—flapping, Jaskier realized. In the same fashion that Jaskier’s own did, because he had gills. Geralt didn’t have gills. At least, he hadn’t when Jaskier last saw him. They looked new, freshly ripped out of his skin, and raw. Geralt’s eyes opened in an instant, and he suddenly clung to Jaskier.

“What did you _do_?” Jaskier asked, though his mouth didn’t move. It was the same strange words-through-the-mind that he’d been using since they met. Geralt had never been able to reply.

“Didn’t want you to be alone.” Until now, apparently. Jaskier’s eyes went wide, and he followed the gesture of Geralt’s hand.

The first thing Jaskier noticed was that Geralt wasn’t actually wearing any clothes. The second thing he realized was clothes would have just been a hindrance, because Geralt’s legs were half-fused together.

“What—what happened?” Jaskier asked. “What did you—Geralt?” Jaskier looked back to him, only to have Geralt’s hands suddenly around his face.

“Sorceress friends are good for something,” came Geralt’s reply. “Got me for twenty-four hours.”

Jaskier suddenly grinned. He didn’t understand any of it, or how it was happening, just that—when he looked down—Geralt had a beautiful, silver tail and speckled scales about his abdomen. He wasn’t a _real_ merperson, so it wasn’t as if his body would ever start to sprout the scales like Jaskier’s did. Jaskier had scales up and down his arms, his front, his back, and even his face. Geralt didn’t need the scales, though. Jaskier had plenty to look at and plenty to touch.

Jaskier couldn’t keep his hands to himself. They roamed down Geralt’s chest, feeling over his scars, the definition. He dropped all the way down to where Geralt’s skin turned into tail. Magic practically had its own scent, one that Jaskier recognized. This wasn’t _real_ tail. It felt smoother to the touch than a real tail would, but Jaskier roamed his hands down as far as he could reach without having to pull his gaze from Geralt’s. Then, he pulled his hands right back up to rest at the junction of Geralt’s neck and shoulders.

“What’s on your mind?” Geralt asked, reaching out to hold Jaskier by the hips.

Jaskier’s hips rolled forward into Geralt’s, and the sensation was so _different_. Geralt’s tail could only pretend to be a tail, which meant his cock was just there. When Jaskier ground against him, Geralt reacted immediately. The contrast of Jaskier’s scales against his cock told him exactly what was on Jaskier’s mind, and it was nothing pure. Jaskier’s slit was beginning to open at the stimulation, allowing the head of his own cock to show. Geralt couldn’t help but glance down, and it was the perfect excuse to separate them for a moment.

“You sure?”

Jaskier rolled his eyes. “You said twenty-four _hours_. Surely, you can spare one or two of those inside of me, can’t you?” Jaskier shifted forward so he could rest himself against Geralt’s chest. In the water, it was painfully easy to do so. Geralt quickly learned what the tail was partially for—balance. He’d get the hang of it, and until then, he put his arms around Jaskier’s shoulders.

“This thing even real enough for that?”

Jaskier nodded enthusiastically. “Oh, darling, it is just real enough. I’m going to show you _everything_.”

Geralt couldn’t help the shudder that reached down his spine. When Jaskier dragged him off, deeper into the lake, he followed. Jaskier had already shown him so much of what made this fun. There had been one particular sunny afternoon where Jaskier showed Geralt all the fun of having twin fins at the end of a tail, and what one could do with them when they were pressed together around one very aching cock. If things could get better than that, then Geralt was happy to find out.

Jaskier pulled them down a ways, but not too deeply that Geralt would struggle to see. He wanted Geralt to be able to witness _everything_ he was about to show off. They’d only gone deep enough for the water to remain cool when the sun began to hang directly overhead.

“Leave you alone for a week and look at you.” Geralt spread his fingers down over Jaskier’s parting slit, feeling the soft skin revealed by the moving scales. Jaskier shuddered in return, hips bucking into the touch.

He let his lips part, entirely unbothered by the water he tasted. He just pressed forward, his webbed fingers working their way up Geralt’s chest, then over his shoulders, and down his back as they came close enough to kiss.

Geralt groaned into the kiss, rutting his tail into Jaskier’s as they somehow managed to get closer. Geralt dragged his fingers over Jaskier’s hip, leaving his slit alone for the time being. He ran his hands over Jaskier’s back, down over the first swell of his tail. If he were human, it might have been a nice handful of ass to grab, but Geralt didn’t know quite what to call it. Just that it was the perfect shape for him to grab, and the perfect hold to use to drag Jaskier closer.

Suddenly, their tails were wrapped together. It was Geralt’s turn to gasp, pulling back to look down where Jaskier’s scales rubbed against the smoothness of his own tail. It was _sensitive_. For only a moment, Geralt thought that it was because his tail was fake, but Jaskier was shuddering through every pass. Jaskier’s tail was just as sensitive, if not more when the rubbing went against the grain of his scales. His slit had nearly entirely opened, now, and his cock was beginning to work its way out.

“What are you going to show me first?”

Jaskier shook his head. “Nothing, nothing—just _fuck_ me. It’s been so long.” He cupped Geralt’s face, pressing another heady kiss right against his lips. “ _Please_ , Geralt. Don’t tell me you forgot—”

When Geralt’s hand wedged back between them, Jaskier’s voice broke off. The noise that came out of his mouth was like a pure song, as Geralt stroked the edges of his slit. Jaskier’s cock was almost entirely exposed. Geralt didn’t dare touch it until it was, and then he gripped it around the base for that first, hard stroke. Jaskier’s hips bucked instantly, and he dug his fingers into Geralt’s shoulders. He rolled his hips, trying desperately to take more than Geralt was giving.

The pace was almost painfully slow, but Geralt knew just where to press his fingers along the base, the slippery underside. Noises continued to leave Jaskier’s throat as the pleasure took him. He flicked his fins through the water, which in turn had Geralt jolting as their tails tightened around each other.

“What about _fuck me_ did you not understand?” Jaskier gasped.

“Want to take my time with you,” Geralt said. “Haven’t seen you in so long.” He crooked his wrist, working Jaskier’s cock at a different angle. Jaskier practically _sang_ for him right there, hips bucking wildly through Geralt’s fist.

“ _Please_ ,” Jaskier begged.

“You want to spend the whole twenty-four hours fucking, do you?”

Jaskier nodded eagerly. “Yes, yes— _fuck_ yes, if you’ll do it. Please, Geralt. Inside of me—” Jaskier’s voice hitched when he keened again, hips rolling as Geralt spread fingers down through his slit.

Right beneath the base of his cock was that crevice, and Geralt pressed two of his fingers into it. Jaskier let out a silent cry as the fingers sunk inside. His passage spasmed around the intrusion, hips bucking to impale himself further on Geralt’s thick, calloused fingers. The rough skin felt like a _dream_ against his smooth walls. Everything was wet enough already, Geralt just had to press inside, and he went deep.

When he spread his fingers apart, Jaskier’s hips bucked, and his back arched. He held onto Geralt’s shoulders for all he was worth, shivering through every pass of his fingers. They stretched him open, leaving Jaskier trembling from spine to tail. It’d been too long since he’d had this, and he _craved_ it. He had to get it out of his system before he could have the wits about him to show Geralt anything new.

A third finger was added, and Jaskier’s tail flapped through the water. Geralt’s own tightened around him, trying to keep him _still_. Geralt was no fishman, but the way that the instincts were kicking in had Jaskier thriving, shaking in his hold. This was _exactly_ what it was like, though Jaskier was usually the one doing the holding. He found he rather enjoyed this—being wrapped up in Geralt’s firm grasp, fingers still working inside of him. Other merpeople, with their webbed hands, couldn’t _do_ this with their fingers. It always left Jaskier gasping and breathless.

“Geralt—Geralt, I’m ready. This is _fine_ ; give me your cock,” Jaskier rambled out.

Geralt didn’t move immediately. Instead, he crooked his fingers for just a bit longer, ensuring that Jaskier was actually ready to take him inside. Then, he shifted them. With his fingers removed, Jaskier was trembling at the emptiness. He let Geralt shift them around, press their hips together. Jaskier clung to Geralt’s shoulders, hook his neck over and closing his eyes as he felt the first press of Geralt’s cock. _That_ hadn’t been changed. It was still thick and long.

That weight of the head meant that the first press had Jaskier whimpering, holding on tight as Geralt eased into him. Once it was through, Jaskier’s gills fluttered in a sigh, a breath of relief. He felt so full, practically stuffed, but he wanted more. Geralt sank into him until their hips were pressed together, Jaskier’s cock wedged between them. Jaskier was left shaking, groaning, especially as Geralt’s lips ghosted over his neck, over the flaps of his gills.

“Geralt—” Jaskier groaned.

Geralt shushed him, though, trailing his fingers down Jaskier’s sides and over the sensitive deposits of scales. “I’ve got you,” he said. “Gonna make you feel good.”

Jaskier tilted his head back in utter acceptance, submission, and let Geralt mouth along the column of his neck. When Geralt’s hips began to move, Jaskier practically lost himself. The _feeling_ of it, their tails pressed together and rubbing as Geralt ground against him. Geralt’s hands were on him, lowering until he could grab Jaskier around the chest. Geralt’s hands were just big enough that his thumbs brushed over Jaskier’s nipples, and Jaskier cried out. With teeth in his neck and that touch, he was helpless.

He rutted uselessly against Geralt, groaning as they really started to move together. Their hips separated, slapped back together—the rush of the water between them was the strangest thing Geralt had ever felt, but he found it strangely pleasing. It rippled around his tail, leaving him a bit breathless.

Geralt bucked his hips harder, pulling back and sinking back inside. More water was displaced, more groans between them. Jaskier was writhing in his arms, scraping fingers up his back, down his chest—wherever he could get hold enough to ground himself. Jaskier pushed back against Geralt with whatever strength he had, rutting their hips together and grinding, maddeningly, against Geralt’s tail. It added new heights to _everything_ , and then Jaskier was cupping Geralt’s face and tipping back his head,

They kissed through it, their bodies pressed together from there to the tips of their tails, where Geralt still had a tight wrap around Jaskier. Or Jaskier was wrapped around him. It was so hard to tell where one of them ended and the next began, nothing but perfect _feeling_ to be had. Geralt groaned through their kiss, dropping one hand to cup what might have been Jaskier’s ass and using the other one to card through his hair. Jaskier trembled near instantly, hips grinding faster.

Geralt’s cock was so deep inside of him. Thick enough to keep him open and groaning. Geralt wasn’t even thrusting, not like how he did when he had legs. They were just grinding together, close enough that the entirety of Geralt’s length was pressed up inside of Jaskier. That was all Jaskier wanted. As they rutted against each other, their tails rubbed. Jaskier’s cock was pressed between them, grinding into Geralt’s tail, into his skin. The sensation was so _much_.

“Not gonna—not gonna last,” Jaskier gasped out. They hadn’t stopped kissing, but the voice Geralt heard in his head was just as breathless as Jaskier might have sounded if they were on shore or in their cave.

“Have all day,” Geralt reminded. “Come for me, you pretty thing.”

Jaskier couldn’t help but follow those instructions. His entire body jolted and writhed as his orgasm came through him. His hips bucked wildly, trying desperately to impale himself further on Geralt’s cock, no matter how close they were already pressed. His own shook with the force of his orgasm, but the water practically did away with the evidence of it. Jaskier was just left shaking, limp in Geralt’s hold.

Geralt didn’t stop moving. He fucked into Jaskier at a renewed pace, sinking his cock into that wet, hot hole over and over again. The water rippled between them, displaced by the force of Geralt’s thrusts. Jaskier was helpless to do anything other than take it, and he _wanted_ it. He let himself be held, be shifted around to better suit Geralt’s needs. He squeezed his tail around Geralt’s own, reaching a hand between them to rub at the skin right where Geralt’s cock appeared.

Suddenly, that had Geralt bucking wildly. Jaskier cried out under the force of it, his passage spasming and clenching as Geralt fucked through it. It didn’t take long, after that. For only a handful of hard, half-abortive thrusts, Geralt managed to last. After that, he groaned out right against Jaskier’s neck, water discharged through his brand-new gills as he swallowed it unexpectedly. He mouthed into Jaskier’s skin as he came. Jaskier trembled as he was filled. It felt _different_ in the water, and he couldn’t help but crave it again

Geralt did pull back, his cock only half-hard once it came free of Jaskier’s passage. Jaskier reached down for it immediately, ignoring the sudden leak of spend from his own hole. He wrapped Geralt’s cock up in his hands, stroking it. Geralt’s hips twitched in response, and his cock began to harden right back up. Jaskier let his jaw drop open at the sight—Geralt was clearly not done with this. And Jaskier was so painfully glad for that fact.

“Want to show you what we can really do, now,” Jaskier said; his voice sounded absolutely breathless.

“Show me,” Geralt said.

“You’ll tell me if it’s bad?”

Geralt nodded.

One of Jaskier’s hands disappeared then, and in turn, splayed out over his brand-new tail. He sunk right beneath Geralt’s cock, rubbing into the space right beneath it. Geralt had no proper slit, not like a real fish person would, but there was _definitely_ a place beneath his cock to mimic the hole that Jaskier had. Nearly proper. It would do. Jaskier was already shuddering at the thought of it, as he rubbed over the hole. Geralt’s hips bucked on touch alone.

“Jaskier—”

“You like it?”

Geralt nodded, clutching his hands up the back of Jaskier’s neck and into his hair. He rolled into Jaskier’s touch, suddenly understanding how frustrating it must have been to have webbed fingers. The only option Jaskier _had_ was to just pet himself. That, or to do that wonderful thing he’d done before where he bent his own cock over and fucked himself. At the memory, Geralt suddenly groaned. Jaskier grinned, pressing his face to Geralt’s neck for his own taste of those brand-new gills.

Mouthing over gills was something Jaskier hadn’t done in so long, and it felt good against his lips. The texture of it, the way the fluttered under his kisses. His own body trembled, and all the while, he stroked over Geralt’s new hole. He sounded shocked with each gasp as Jaskier’s fingers moved over it, like he hadn’t _known_ it would be there. Whoever had given him this tail had gone to great lengths that it could be as real as possible, and Jaskier was ever thankful for it.

“You should try it,” Jaskier urged.

“Think I need _stretched_ for your cock?” Geralt actually laughed. Jaskier took that moment to bite down over Geralt’s gills instead, and the way he jerked into Jaskier’s hand was enough to have Jaskier groaning again.

Too curious for his own good, Geralt relented. He’d seen how Jaskier reacted, and he wanted to know. He ran his hand down between them, sliding over the smooth skin of his tail. He bumped into Jaskier’s hand, which immediately moved to grab onto Geralt’s wrist. Wanted to _help_. He guided Geralt right over his own hole, then urged him to press that first finger inside. Immediately, Geralt’s hips bucked. With his free hand, he wrenched Jaskier’s head back by his hair so they could kiss.

“You want a turn? Is that what this is?” Geralt asked. He pressed deeper into the kiss, his tongue between Jaskier’s lips.

“ _Please_.” Jaskier was desperate. His cock was hard between them, jolting with each new rush of pleasure. How could Geralt deny him?

The truth was Geralt couldn’t. Jaskier sounded so pretty and so desperate. Even like this where he had no simulation himself, he was writhing like Geralt’s cock was still deep inside of him. The only touch was his hand pressed against Geralt’s to urge Geralt to _continue_. Two fingers inside of himself, then, Geralt’s hips rolled forward. It as unlike anything he’d ever felt. Even on those rare occasions he’d worked his fingers into himself or sat on another man’s cock—this was just so different.

He had no patience. Geralt pulled his fingers back, and before Jaskier even had a chance to cry about it, he was grabbing Jaskier’s cock. Jaskier shuddered at the hold, then quieted. He couldn’t complain about Geralt’s hands on him, especially not as their tails repositioned and Geralt took hold of Jaskier’s hip. Then, Jaskier was taken by the feeling of wet _heat_ sheathing up around him. Geralt worked their hips together until Jaskier was fully seated inside of him.

Jaskier could barely contain himself, hips already bucking before they were pressed flush against one another. Geralt’s cock was sandwiched between them. It was heavy and _hot_ against Jaskier’s skin, even with the coolness of the water. Jaskier couldn’t help but work his hand around it, jerking the shaft in time with his own thrusts. He rolled their hips together, one hand clutched around Geralt’s shoulders while the other worked hurriedly over the length of his cock.

“Fuck.” Geralt heard himself _groan_ into their kiss, even through the water. “Desperate little thing, aren’t you?”

Jaskier nodded, finally breaking their kiss apart so he could look down between them. He rested his forehead on Geralt’s shoulder, _watching_ himself disappear into Geralt with each rock of his hips. His entire cock fit inside of Geralt, and Geralt stretched open to accommodate the weight of the base. The sight of it had Jaskier shivering, his cock twitching as he buried it again and again. He stroked Geralt’s cock in time, squeezing right beneath the head through each pass.

Geralt bucked back. It didn’t take long before they found a rhythm, moving together. When Jaskier couldn’t control himself a moment longer, he let go of Geralt’s cock to grip onto his shoulders instead. Geralt’s cock rested perfectly against his lower abdomen—the _size_ of it. Jaskier shuddered, grinding their hips together. He was so deep inside of Geralt. The way that it _felt_ , not like Geralt spasmed and clenched around him, but like he tightened. Like Jaskier was fucking between his thighs and feeling the weight of them around his cock.

It only made him go faster. With his hold on Geralt’s shoulders, he had the leverage he needed to work his cock into Geralt _harder_. Geralt was pressed up against him, cock rubbing into his tail, his skin—Jaskier shuddered and moaned when Geralt nipped at his neck. Teeth in his skin was something Jaskier found he was craving. He loved the marks Geralt left behind on him, tracing them in the moments he was alone. He could already feel the bruises forming as Geralt grabbed at him, bit into his skin.

“Come on,” Geralt urged, his lips ghosting over Jaskier’s jaw and the scales peppered there. “Fuck me like you mean it. Want to see how desperate you are.”

Something hitched in Jaskier’s throat, like a half-broken cry, and his entire body moved with the force of his thrusts, then. They moved together, twisting through the water as Jaskier ground into Geralt. Geralt was just _everywhere_. Around him, on top of him, beneath him. They were just moving. Grinding desperately together and touching, grabbing, scratching. Jaskier buried himself into Geralt, slapping their tails together. His hands roamed down Geralt’s chest, feeling over the bumps and crevices of scars.

Some of them were still sensitive, and Geralt groaned into his skin, into his lips—wherever his mouth happened to be at the moment. Jaskier could hardly keep track. Geralt’s hands were in his hair, down his back, over his chest. He swore Geralt even had a hand between them, somewhere in the water, to stroke at whatever length of Jaskier’s cock revealed itself as he thrust near wildly.

“Close,” Jaskier gasped out. “Geralt, I’m—”

Geralt didn’t respond. He just wrapped his hands around Jaskier’s neck and carted his fingers through the flaps. Jaskier moaned at the touch. Through the last few abortive thrusts, he finally came. Geralt’s jaw dropped open when he felt it, Jaskier’s cock twisting and writhing inside of him as he came. Geralt clamped his hands down over Jaskier’s hips and held them flush together. All while Jaskier twitched and writhed through his orgasm, Geralt held him right there, hips bucking together of their own accord.

When it finally stopped, Geralt still didn’t let Jaskier go. In response, Jaskier just shivered. He rested against Geralt’s shoulder, holding onto him desperately. Every heaved movement had his gills flapping for air; he was tired, but the way that his hips still bucked said he had a bit more life left in him. Geralt could feel it, too, the way Jaskier’s cock moved inside of him.

“Geralt,” Jaskier practically whined.

“What else did you want to show me?” Geralt asked. “Think I got a good idea of it.”

“Do you?”

When Geralt rolled his hips, Jaskier choked on his own breath. Geralt hadn’t come yet—Jaskier hadn’t even realized. Now that his head was mostly his own, he could feel how achingly hard Geralt was against his tail, grinding against him.

“Be easy enough, wouldn’t it?” Geralt finally said. Jaskier’s gills fluttered as Geralt took hold of his own cock. “Slip right inside you like this.”

Jaskier shuddered. “Geralt, _please_ —yes, that’s what I want— _fuck_.” He couldn’t even formulate the words, after that. All he could focus on was Geralt shifting them around.

It took some maneuvering, but Jaskier’s own cock was nowhere near as rigid as Geralt’s. When Jaskier was aroused, his cock lengthened, thickened, but that was all. It made him so easy to move, even while they were still pressed together. It ended with Geralt’s cockhead finally pressed back up against Jaskier’s hole.

The press was easy. Geralt just sunk back inside of Jaskier, and Jaskier stretched around him. It took only a moment before they were flush together, cocks buried deep inside of each other. Jaskier was left trembling, spasming around the weight inside of him. He leaned forward onto Geralt’s shoulder for support, hips bucking uselessly.

“Don’t know how much longer,” Jaskier muttered.

“I have you,” Geralt told him. He rested his head against Jaskier’s, running one hand through his hair while the other steadied him at the hip. “Gonna make you come again.”

Jaskier shuddered against him, mouthing over whatever skin he could reach. Their hips worked together, Jaskier writhing in Geralt’s hold. Each time their hips came together, they buried within each other again—and again, and again. Jaskier’s jaw was dropped open as the pleasure coursed through him. He could feel every twitch, every throb of Geralt’s cock inside of him.

“Want this,” Jaskier muttered between them. “Want this all the fucking time— _fuck_ , you feel so good.”

Geralt worked their hips together. Their tails curled and tightened. Water between them, friction, _everything_. Jaskier felt high on it, with his body against Geralt’s. They were touching just everywhere, and when their tails swiped, fins passed, it lit entirely new fires. Geralt was struggling to keep control of himself, even. His thrusts were wild, more grinding than anything. He squeezed around the weight inside of him, and in turn, felt Jaskier spasm around his cock.

Neither one of them was going to last long. With no point in trying to drag it out, they just kept going, grinding and touching until everything was cresting. Geralt came first, squeezing down around Jaskier’s cock inside of him as he lost himself in the feeling. Warmth spread out through his body, and that was when he knew why Jaskier had taken them so deep. It was nearly unbearable, save for the cool rippling of water around them. Geralt’s hips bucked uselessly through his orgasm, and before he was even _finished_ , Jaskier’s own cock gave an abortive twitch inside of him and came.

“Fuck,” Geralt groaned. “Feels so good inside you.”

Jaskier shuddered. “Yeah?”

Geralt mouthed along Jaskier’s jaw, down his throat. “Just like you said—want this all the fucking time.”

Jaskier wrapped his arms around Geralt’s shoulders, then. He was still shivering from the stimulation. It still hadn’t _stopped_ , but now that he was sensitive from orgasm after orgasm, just being this close made it feel like they were _both_ still on edge, both still coming. Neither one of them wanted to be the one to pull back, so for the moment, they just kissed. Geralt was already used to the strange flow of water between them when they swapped tongues. He traced his own along the tops of Jaskier’s teeth, over the ridges of his mouth. All the while, Jaskier’s hips jerked against his own.

“You still with me?” Geralt asked.

Jaskier nodded helplessly against his neck. “How many hours we got left?”

“Enough,” Geralt promised. “You tell me if I need to stop.”

“Never,” Jaskier gasped back. “Want more. Want whatever you can give me—” His voice hitched as Geralt began to pull them apart.

Their cocks slipped away, both of them now nearly soft. Jaskier whimpered at both the loss of heat around his cock, and the emptiness he felt as Geralt pulled away. Geralt was only away for a second. In the next, he was slinking down deeper into the water, keeping his hands on Jaskier’s hips, until he was level with Jaskier’s slit. He looked up at Jaskier then, who couldn’t even formulate words. Unspoken words were so much harder to manage out, especially with Geralt right there.

All Jaskier could manage was a nod, and that was enough for Geralt to dive forward. The water around them was already wet, but it was the sudden _heat_ of Geralt’s mouth over his slit that had Jaskier bucking. Geralt titled his head as to leave Jaskier’s cock be, but he mouthed right over that stretched out hole. Immediately, Geralt pressed his tongue inside. There was nothing to keep him away. If anything, Jaskier tried to push into his mouth, or bring Geralt’s head closer, whatever it was he could manage.

He ground against Geralt’s tongue, his fingers through Geralt’s hair. With as wrung out as he already was, Jaskier couldn’t keep himself upright, anymore. Bent over Geralt, all he could do was groan as that tongue fucked into him. Geralt could taste himself inside of Jaskier, but underneath it was that metallic and salty tang he’d come to expect from putting his mouth on Jaskier. He craved it. The way that it nearly stung against his tongue as he lapped at Jaskier’s spasming walls.

“Geralt,” came Jaskier’s tired, strangled call. “Fuck—can I?”

“When I’m done,” Geralt shot back, pressing his tongue impossibly deeper.

He could taste _everything_ inside of Jaskier. He wasn’t about to pull away until he’d had his fill, and Jaskier was more than appreciative for it. His hips were bucking into the touch, his fingers squeezing through Geralt’s hair. Geralt’s hands went from his hips over the swell of his backside. Geralt held Jaskier still, steadied him while he pulled his tongue back to lap at the remaining mess just around Jaskier’s hole. Once he’d had his taste of Jaskier, Geralt pulled back.

He didn’t go far. He trailed his tongue along the edges of Jaskier’s slit, licking along the crease. He took Jaskier’s cock in hand, wrapping right at the base where the rest of it disappeared inside of him, and then pulled away just to swallow it down. Jaskier jolted in his hold, shaking. It was almost too much, but he still moaned through it until Geralt finally pulled away.

Jaskier didn’t even have to _move_. Geralt just swam higher up until Jaskier was level with his cock, instead. Immediately, Jaskier grabbed into Geralt’s hips and dove for him. This was unfamiliar territory, now, but Jaskier didn’t let that stop him. He lapped over Geralt’s new passage, feeling the way it sort of constricted and released against Jaskier’s tongue. On the release, Jaskier pushed into it to _taste_ —he practically moaned against Geralt. He was close enough that every move of his lips added something extra to the heat.

Geralt’s hips bucked into Jaskier’s mouth, groaning at the feeling of that tongue inside of him. It was so _different_. Not entirely unpleasant, either. In fact, Geralt was already thinking up the next time they could try out this little magic trick. Jaskier’s tongue inside of him felt like a dream. Jaskier moaned at the taste of him, the feeling of Geralt on his tongue, clenching down around the intrusion. Jaskier tasted him for just a moment longer, before he pulled back and mimicked Geralt’s movements exactly.

This was something they were painfully familiar with—Jaskier sinking down over Geralt’s cock and swallowing around the thick head. He went as deep as he could go over Geralt’s cock, covering the rest with his webbed fingers. Normally, Jaskier might have closed his eyes and lost himself to having this weight in his mouth. This time, he kept his eyes open. He wanted to _see_ Geralt like this, with his long, silvery tail and his flapping gills. This was an imagine Jaskier would take to bed with him for the rest of his life.

Jaskier swallowed, hallowed out his cheeks and began to bob his head. He didn’t just intend to lick at Geralt like some newborn guppy, but to get him off one more time. It was only fair. Jaskier was still shivering through the three Geralt had wrenched out of him. Geralt needed that last one to really know what this felt like, and Jaskier intended to suck it right out of him.

All through it, Geralt’s hips bucked. Gurgled noises left his throat as bubbles came from his gills. They were flapping near wildly, and the harder Jaskier worked, the more Geralt reacted. He couldn’t form words either, just rocking into Jaskier’s mouth to chase the end. There was a tightness growing in his stomach, along with an unfathomable fire. He didn’t think he’d really be able to get off again, but Jaskier’s tongue was lapping against the underside of his cock, lips working up and down the length of the shaft.

Geralt let out a broken noise as he came, without warning. Jaskier just let his eyes close as he took it, swallowed it all down. He squeezed the base of Geralt’s cock, working every last drop out of him while he moaned low in his throat. Jaskier worked down lower for that last moment, and then finally popped back.

“Fuck,” Geralt groaned. “Thought I was done.”

“And I thought _I_ was done,” he said, moving back up, “until you fucked me like that.”

Jaskier draped his arms over Geralt’s shoulders, and Geralt wrapped his own low around Jaskier’s waist. In the wake of their resounding pleasure, all they could do was kiss. Even being pressed together as they were was almost too much. Still, they couldn’t resist the draw. Their lips met, slotted together, and Jaskier’s head tilted ever-gently to the side. The kiss was gentle, chaste. When they finally pulled apart, neither one of them went far. Jaskier simply moved enough to grab Geralt by the wrist.

“What now?” Geralt asked.

“You can never spend this much time down here, so come with me,” Jaskier implored. “I want to show you what I’ve done down here.”

Geralt gave pause for a minute, but he nodded. He let Jaskier drag him down, down, down to the bottom of the lake where there was this little cave. It was much like the one Jaskier had in the sea, the few times Geralt had seen it. His bed was made of plants, and he had baubles lining the floor and the rock-made shelves. Geralt had ensured _most_ of Jaskier’s things were brought here, though it’d been messy business. Some of his skulls hadn’t survived the trip, but he found plants to fill the spaces they left.

Jaskier took Geralt straight to his plant bed. Jaskier sat down quite easily, but Geralt hadn’t actually had much time to learn how to use this new tail he had. He’d been rather stationary, save for Jaskier dragging him back and forth. That was much like when he had legs; he didn’t have to do everything. Now, Jaskier was asking him to _sit_ , and it took a moment to figure out how to bend his tail just right to do so. He did eventually get his seat beside Jaskier, close enough that their tails were touching.

Jaskier ended the skirting about each other by tangling their tails and latching onto Geralt’s arm. By this point, arousal over and done with, Jaskier’s cock had disappeared back into his slit. Geralt’s tail was fake, so he didn’t have the same slit. However kind as Jaskier was, he still couldn’t help but snickering. It was all a bit silly, but he managed to pry his eyes away from the sight of Geralt’s cock just lying there against his hip.

“Done a nice job with the place,” Geralt said. “This what you wanted to show me?”

Jaskier nodded. “Hoped you’d like it. Maybe—you said we had twenty-four hours, right?” Jaskier had this nervous look on his face, chewing on his bottom lip while the words came through. “It’s one of those things that couples do, isn’t it? Sleep together? Wake up together?”

Geralt offered a weak smile, reaching out to brush his hand along Jaskier cheek. When he brushed over the peppering of scales there, Jaskier shivered. As he didn’t even seem to notice he’d shivered, Geralt kept his mouth shut. He tucked it away for later—maybe Jaskier wasn’t quite as done as he thought he was. Neither was Geralt, apparently.

“We _are_ a couple, right?” Jaskier asked. “Even if it’s weird?”

Geralt nodded. “Yes, Jaskier. Are you still worried about that?”

In lieu of a response, Jaskier just pushed out his lower lip in a pout. Geralt just stroked along his cheek again, then leaned down to kiss that silly pout of his.

“I love you,” Geralt said. He carded his fingers back through Jaskier’s hair, then, as Jaskier pulled away from his arm. “Even if it’s weird.”

Jaskier smiled, then. He seemed pleased—flushed, even. His tail fins flicked in the water, and his gills flapped.

“All want is to lay down for a nap, then?”

“Is that bad?” Jaskier asked. “There’s not much in the lake to see. I could go show you the new plants growing, but you’ve seen underwater plants. You _pick_ them. There’s buckthorn growing down here.”

Geralt couldn’t help but grin. “Not bad. Just wanted to make sure.” Then, without further fanfare, Geralt pulled the tails apart so he could flop down onto the bed.

As beds went, it wasn’t all that uncomfortable. As it was the only bed Jaskier had ever known, he didn’t have much to compare it to. To him, it was as comfortable as comfort got. Having Geralt in it just made it all the better. Jaskier couldn’t throw himself down fast enough. He curled up at Geralt’s side, hiking his tail up over Geralt’s hips, and relaxed down. Geralt’s arm was his pillow, and Geralt’s hand reached his shoulder to draw senseless little shapes.

Comfortable as he was, it didn’t take long for Jaskier to fall straight asleep. Geralt wasn’t quite as used to sleeping underwater. It wouldn’t come to him, but he was perfectly happy to lie there and watch Jaskier instead. He made faces in his sleep, especially as the dreams began to roll in. Always expressive. Even his fins twitched in his sleep. His gills flapped as he breathed. His eyelids fluttered. Geralt couldn’t help but watch. He even shifted up to his side to make it easier.

That was the most shocking bit of all. Even in his sleep, Jaskier huddled closer. He nestled his head into the crook of Geralt’s shoulder, and his arm draped over Geralt’s waist. Geralt couldn’t help but smile, then. Jaskier was clingy at the best of times, but that was when he was awake. Now, he was asleep, and still just the same. Almost more so than he was when he was awake. There was nothing keeping him from shifting as close to Geralt as possible, and so, that was exactly what he did.

Geralt even held him nice and close. Jaskier was warm admit the chill of the water. Geralt found himself craving it. Jaskier was accustomed to this life. Geralt, on the other hand, was thinking about taking once hot bath after this, and then staying a good clear distance from water for a week or two. They still had most of their time left, and Geralt was going to enjoy it, no matter how much of a prune he was sure to look like at the end.

—

At some point, Geralt must have fallen asleep. It wouldn’t have been for more than a moment, but when he woke back up, it was almost with a jolt. He heard Jaskier’s soft laughter in his head but felt those lips against his skin. Jaskier’s hips were rolling against his ever so slowly, but enough that Geralt knew exactly what it was Jaskier was looking for. Not quite as done as either of them believed. At a glance, Geralt knew this had only just begun. Jaskier’s slit was still closed.

“Really want to spend this whole time fucking, don’t you?” Geralt asked, though he said it fondly. He pressed close to Jaskier, humming through the water as his gills flapped. Jaskier grinned something painfully wide, letting their forehead press together.

“Yes,” he said. “When am I ever going to get to see your tail again?”

Geralt just shrugged, too busy slinking a hand between them to give a proper answer. Jaskier’s grin turned into a jaw-dropped gasp a second later as Geralt’s fingers caressed over the sensitive scales of his tail. Geralt knew just what scales protected that sensitive opening, and he urged them aside.

“Geralt—”

“Too much?” Geralt asked, and his hand stilled. He didn’t pull away. He just peppered kisses along the side of Jaskier’s face, giving him all the time in the world he needed to refuse this. But Jaskier just shook his head.

“Feels good,” he managed out. “Don’t stop.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Geralt got his fingers on the sensitive skin beneath the scales, and Jaskier keened in his arms. The skin was so strangely smooth, and it almost felt hot to the touch. Geralt’s own fins flapped with excitement as he found the center of the slit. He ran his finger through the opening, but not enough to press inside. He kept his eyes on Jaskier to ensure that he was okay. After a desperate nod, Jaskier’s webbed fingers folded in front of his mouth, Geralt pressed further.

He ignored Jaskier’s opening altogether. Instead, he slipped his fingers a little higher up, right at the crest of the slit where he knew he’d hit his mark. Jaskier shivered near uncontrollably as Geralt’s fingers pressed inside. Oh, how they sank into him. Deep enough, and Geralt could feel where Jaskier’s cock was hiding. He could feel it beginning to take interest, too, twitching beneath his touch as he rubbed against the head of it first. Jaskier’s hips bucked. He buried his face in Geralt’s shoulder to try and hide the looks he made.

With his free hand, Geralt stroked back through Jaskier’s hair. He managed to get his fingers around the growing cock, rubbing each side of it in turn. Geralt did no more than rub the little thing, feeling the way that it began to stretch. Jaskier moaned softly. Gills flapping. This was something he’d never experienced, but it was certainly something he wanted again. Certainly, something that didn’t require Geralt to have a tail, either, but the way Geralt’s wrapped around his own was slowly making Jaskier lose his mind.

“Give you legs, next time,” Geralt muttered. “Won’t be enough time to teach you to walk, but if you’re happy to just spend another day _fucking_ —”

Jaskier gasped as Geralt’s fingers crooked inside of him, still rubbing along the sides of his cock. It was slowly making its way towards the opening of the slit, lengthening with interest the more Geralt touched. And touched. Jaskier rolled his hips, squeezing himself against Geralt’s chest and rolling his hips. The pleasure coursed up through his spine, left him gasping for air through the water.

“You’ll carry me?” Jaskier asked.

“Carry you straight to bed.” Geralt went from touching to gentle coaxing, easing the cock out of its confines and out into the water. It was a slow, arduous process, but every second of it had Jaskier shaking in pleasure.

“Surely, nothing you humans get up to is more fun than _this_ —” Jaskier’s hips bucked. “Like my tail.”

Geralt hummed. “Can’t bend you over like this and make you take it.”

That had Jaskier’s jaw dropping opening. He rolled his hips onto Geralt’s fingers, gasping as they pressed deeper. “Fuck, Witcher, I’ll take the legs—”

That was for a different time. Jaskier keened as Geralt finally took his cock in hand. After his long, pleasurable task, the whole length of it was finally out. Geralt started at its thin head, then worked down the tapered length to the base where it thickened beautifully in his hand.

“What do you want?” Geralt asked.

“Anything,” came Jaskier’s desperate reply. He was more concerned with fucking his cock through Geralt’s hold than he was answering that question. Already, his mind was lost. He was still so sensitive, but not so much that it ruined the experience. Just enhanced it, really. It made his fins stretch out and his jaw drop open.

“Tell me,” Geralt urged. “Want to hear you say it.”

Jaskier shuddered. That wasn’t entirely fair, but he couldn’t just deny Geralt. Geralt certainly did like to hear dirty things fall from his lips, even if this case presented those words through a mental connection and not _actually_ through lips.

“Fuck me,” Jaskier said. “Wanna fuck you, too. At the same time, like we did— _fuck_ , Geralt, it felt so good. Wanna just stay like that until I can’t stand it anymore.”

Geralt left Jaskier’s cock just long enough to grab one of his wrists and wrench it down between their hips. Jaskier understood, and instantly, had his own fingers wrapped around Geralt’s cock. Geralt was half-hard already, just from watching Jaskier like this. With the touch, it didn’t take long before Geralt’s cock was thickening, hardening. Jaskier’s fingers were smooth like the rest of him, and the touch of the webbing between was just different enough that Geralt bucked into it.

“Can’t wait,” Jaskier muttered. “Are you ready?” He had his forehead resting on Geralt’s chest so he could look down between them and watch Geralt’s cock twitch and throb in his hand. It made him shudder, made his hips buck. Jaskier couldn’t care less about his own cock in moments like this—he just wanted that monstrous thing inside of him, stretching him open. Then, he groaned.

“Fuck, I don’t think—”

Geralt shushed him. He left Jaskier’s cock immediately to pet over his opening instead. Jaskier tensed up, but the slide was easy. Geralt worked a single finger into him at first to find that Jaskier’s sudden panic wasn’t all that off. After how long they’d been resting, Jaskier had tightened back up. It wasn’t so much a hardship, though, to work him back open. Geralt enjoyed it, working his finger into Jaskier. Jaskier made the most beautiful sing-song noises, and his hips rolled forward beautifully.

When Geralt worked in a second finger, Jaskier keened against his skin. His passage spread right apart to accept the intrusion, and then Geralt just worked. He wasn’t focused on getting Jaskier off, just getting him open. Still, Jaskier moaned and shook through all of it. He was even happier when Geralt finally pulled his fingers back, because it meant that they could finally get situated. Jaskier was desperate for this feeling again—Geralt just _everywhere_.

Geralt pulled Jaskier’s hips closer, and at the first press of his thick cock head, Jaskier’s head rolled back. His jaw dropped open, eyes closed. Jaskier stretched around the weight. Then, Geralt stopped, nothing more than the head of his cock breached through. Jaskier looked _desperate_ , but he held himself still to let Geralt work. Geralt’s hands were on him, then, taking hold of his cock and jerking it once, twice, before shifting closer. Geralt pressed the tip of Jaskier’s cock to his own hole, right beneath the thick base of his cock.

“Fuck,” Jaskier gasped. “Fuck, fuck—”

Geralt practically slammed them together, after that. They were both left shaking, _groaning_ as the pleasure shocked through them. Their hips flush together, cocks buried deep in each other. Geralt didn’t wait for either of them to adjust, either; he just began to move. It was a rough, hurried sort of thing where Geralt just slammed their hips together again and again, fucking himself on Jaskier’s cock just as much as he fucked his own deeper into Jaskier.

Jaskier was left shuddering, moaning through it—too tired to do any work himself, but ever so thankful for that famed Witcher stamina. It meant he didn’t have to do a damn thing. He let Geralt roll them in the water, so Geralt was on top of him where they were lying, floating. Jaskier didn’t know. All he knew was that every time their tails met, he was fucked _full_ of Geralt, and Geralt squeezed around his cock as the same feeling spread through him.

“Fuck, Geralt—”

“Come,” Geralt said, and his voice sounded so _warm_. “Don’t have to hold out.”

Jaskier trembled. He didn’t want to hold out, but this was almost embarrassing. He was ready to come already, just from this, and he just let it happen. He came inside of Geralt, trembling through the whole of it while Geralt just continued to slam them together. Thankfully, Geralt was just as overcome with it as Jaskier was. It didn’t take much longer for Jaskier to feel that rush of spend inside of him, and his hips bucked almost wildly through it.

When it finally came to its conclusion, they both rested back down on the plant bed. Just as Jaskier had practically begged for, Geralt didn’t pull them apart. He just rested them down like that, still pressed together from fin to chest. Jaskier found himself a comfortable place against Geralt’s chest, then muttered out a half-hearted apology when his hips moved on their own.

“Are you sure there’s nothing else you want to do?” Geralt asked.

Jaskier shook his head. “Happy like this,” he muttered, closing his eyes. “Like to feel you inside of me.”

Geralt just gave a gentle hum, but he didn’t comment. He was more than happy to oblige. Jaskier was _warm_ and tight around his cock. He didn’t think he’d be going soft anytime soon, and that was just what Jaskier wanted. Counted on, even, the way his passage continued to constrict and spasm around the weight inside of it. Jaskier was nothing if not a devious little thing. There must have been a _reason_ sailors continued to down, anyway. Mermaids seemed worth the problem.

—

Eventually, their twenty-four hours came to an end. While it was mostly spent right there in bed, curled up around each other, it was nothing if not a pleasant time. Ending, however, as it did, Jaskier eventually had to muster up his strength and drag a very worn out Witcher up to the shore of the lake. When his tail ended, the magic gone, Geralt was entirely naked. But he had no issue sitting at the edge of the water on his own private estate. It wasn’t as if he could go anywhere.

The moment Jaskier had him settled, he plopped himself in Geralt’s lap. His tail flicked behind them, splashing water like an excited child would, almost. Geralt just ran his fingers back through Jaskier’s hair. Under the water, it was hard to tell just how _wet_ everything was. Up here, though, Jaskier looked half-drowned.

“You mentioned something about legs,” Jaskier said, and it was good to actually hear his voice. “If that were to happen…?”

“I’d have to leave again,” Geralt said, then coughed. Water in the throat. “About a week.”

Jaskier hummed. “Maybe not right now, then. I rather like when you come visit me on the daily, you know. It’s lonely when you’re not around.”

“Don’t know many others of your kind who’d be happy to live in a box like this.” Geralt shrugged. “Get you some friends, otherwise.”

Jaskier shook his head. “That’s worth nothing. I want _you_ , Geralt. Because, well.” Jaskier shrugged. “I love you.”

Geralt smiled and wiped Jaskier’s sopping bangs from his forehead. “You need a haircut,” he said.

Jaskier frowned.

“And I love you, too.”

Then, Jaskier smiled. That was good enough.

**Author's Note:**

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